SPORTING SKETCHES. 239 



The Megantic region is a perfect paradise for red deer, par- 

 ticularly during the month of September. On one occasion, we 

 counted five in one day, and the tracks along the small rivers 

 and creeks, particularly in Annance Bog were very numerous. 

 Of course, in the open season in the fall and winter they are not 

 so numerous in this district, yarding farther away in the 

 mounta ns among the hard wood timber. Strange stories are 

 told at Woburn Wharf and names mentioned, too, of how a 

 certain pot-hunter had killed during the summer (and conse- 

 quently out of season) thirty deer. A surreptitious peep into his 

 shed by the writer, revealed a green deerskin hanging up to dry, 

 so I fancy there is much truth in the statement. The game 

 wardens of the Megantic Fish and Game Club are local men and 

 while they do their best they are constantly in danger of their 

 lives when they attempt a prosecution. In fact, on more than 

 one occasion, they have been fired upon with a rifle while en- 

 deavoring to arrest pot-hunters during the close season, for 

 moose hunting with a " Jack." A prosecution, at most, brings a 

 trivial fine and the ultimate result of it all will be, that here, as 

 elsewhere, in a few years time our game will become a matter of 

 history. 



If our sportsmen were all animated by the same desire i. e. 

 to protect the game, we could compel OUT Provincial Government 

 to protect our forests and our streams by paid game wardens. On 

 the contrary, however, the sportsmen have to thank their own 

 want of unamimity for the fast increasing scarcity of fish and 

 game, and being a crank on this subject I would like to dilate 

 upon it but find that I shall not have space in this sketch. 



We put in a jolly fortnight's camp, shooting a goodly number 

 of ducks and grouse, varied by an occasional blue heron or a 

 bittern and fishing for trout in the West Branch and for mas- 

 kinonge in Lake Megantic, sleeping, eating, and taking it very 

 easy generally, and the only tribulation and sorrow inflicted 

 upon us was the loss of B'rer Fox, whom stern business called 

 away at the end of the fifth day. and he left us in sackcloth and 

 ashes, taking with him for distribution a few good trout and our 

 hearty wishes for a reunion the following year. 



The days passed all too quickly, and when the end came we 

 regretfully struck camp and, storing our duffle in our canoes, 

 paddled down Spider river to the lake and were met by the 



